


Almost

by HopelessBanana



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Cliche, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 11:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5495702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopelessBanana/pseuds/HopelessBanana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t care about that right now!” he spluttered. “I just-... I got you a present.” Then he stopped, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. All of a sudden the freezing greenhouse felt very warm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zombeezle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombeezle/gifts).



> (also known as: "gifts under the aoigiri tree")
> 
> so this is my piece for the tokyo ghoul secret santa! i sort of took the cheat's route and made it christmas themed, haha. enjoy, and have a very merry christmas :)

It was Christmas Eve and the Aogiri top dogs were sitting in the greenhouse. They were perched on top of crates with their feet dangling over the edges or propped up on empty plant pots, muttering amongst each other while everyone else milled about aimlessly. Hinami was curled up in one of the corners, staring intently through the window into the snow outside.

“It’s freezing again today.” She felt a blanket drop over her shoulders and a body slump down next to hers. She didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“Ayato,” she greeted him tonelessly, eyes fixed on the grey sky.

“Hinami. You look miserable.”

She glanced up, craning her head over her shoulder and clasping the blanket around her body with both hands. Her nails dug into the fuzzy fabric.

“It's Christmas,” she said, sighing softly. Her breath crystallised in the cold air. “And my parents are dead. It’s not great being alone when the whole holiday is meant to be about family.”

Ayato’s eyes shot open for a moment, surprised, before he managed to get his expression back under control. His mouth settled into a small frown, brows furrowing. “Mine are dead, too,” he offered.

Hinami huffed, shaking her head. “You resent your family. I didn't.” She tried to ignore the way her words caught in her throat. Ayato brushed his hand through his hair, scratching his head as his lips tightened. Hinami’s gaze held steady.

“I guess,” he replied, simply.

“It all just makes me feel a little solemn,” she explained, looking back out of the window at the snow.

There was a shuffling as he sat down beside her, tucking his knees up to his chest. He was warm, radiating heat in the freezing greenhouse. She closed her eyes. “Why are you here, Hinami?” he asked, quietly. She smiled; a private, secretive little smile Ayato found annoyed him more than it should.

“Ask Eto,” she replied, shrugging.

She shifted round, turning her head back over her shoulder. Her hair fell over her eyes a little, and one or two of the longer strands framing her face caught in her eyelashes. Ayato almost lifted a hand to brush them away, he felt his fingers by his sides itching to move, but he stopped himself. Instead he watched her reach up to do it herself, with small, delicate fingers curling as she pushed the hair behind the shell of her ear. He watched her mouth turn up a little at the corners, a soft and very sad smile.

“Psh,” he snorted, instead of telling her she was beautiful. “I’d rather attract as little attention from her as possible.”

She laughed lightly, like tinkling bells, and pulled the blanket around herself a little tighter. Suddenly, she looked very serious again. “I have a dual kagune,” she reminded him. “And excellent hearing. I’m a useful asset to Aogiri.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” he complained. He crossed his legs and leaned forwards, tugging at the fur lining of his hood. “Why did _you_ come here?”

Hinami clenched her fists in the blanket, closed her eyes and frowned. She didn’t really _know_ why it was she called her actually. She had nobody else to turn to, that was true, but she could probably have made it alone with Banjou and the trio. All she remembered was staring at the card she'd given her, and knowing she needed to do _something_. She supposed that it was because Eto was very beautiful, because her books were something Kaneki loved and she wanted to be close to him, because she could give her a purpose. She wondered why she was treated so comparatively well. She’d seen the things she would do to some of their new “recruits”, especially the ones who had not joined Aogiri Tree of their own will. She tried not to think about it.

“Protection,” she lied.

It wasn’t convincing. For the first two months of her being there, whenever Eto walked into the room, Hinami would shy away into a corner and try to avoid being seen. She was so much more terrifying than she had been in the coffee shop. Seeing her as the leader of Aogiri tree explained a lot. It certainly explained how she could write such horrific and such beautiful horror.

Ayato scowled, then tutted, rolling up onto the balls of his feet and into a crouch. “You don't have to tell me.” The look on his face told her she did. She stood, still holding the blanket over her shoulders so that it draped behind her like a cape. He bounced up to his full height and stared her in the eye, almost pouting. It was strange; he’d expected her to look irritated or bored, but instead she just looked upset. He instantly opened his mouth to apologise for snapping at her, but closed it again when he remembered that things like saying sorry weren’t the sort of things he said.

“Sorry,” Hinami said.

“Don’t be. It’s really fine,” he said, too loudly, stumbling over his words.

She looked dubious, eyes narrowing a little, then relaxed. “Alright.” After a moment of awkward silence, she nodded to him and shuffled past, the blanket brushing him softly. Without him willing it to, his head turned to follow her, watching her soft brown hair bounce around her head as she walked.

“It’s Christmas,” he mumbled to himself, and quietly moved to slip out of the back exit. It wasn’t like anything was going on today anyway, he reasoned. He could afford to go missing for a couple of hours. He had suddenly realised he had an errand to run.

When he got back, she was sitting on an upturned plant pot, leaning her elbows on a spindly little side table that looked as if it would fall to pieces any minute. The rust left reddish marks on her skin where she had pushed the sleeves of her robe up. “Hinami, I need to talk to you,” Ayato said, as determined as he could sound. Her head snapped up, and she seemed to tense.

“I don’t want to talk about this morning, Ayato.”

“No, nor do I-”

“Then please don’t start,” she scowled. “I’m not in the mood for this right now.” Her eyes looked unbearably tired, and he hated it.

“Look, listen to me!” he protested, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her into the corner they’d sat in that morning. Hinami groaned, yanking her hand away and folding her arms across her chest.

“ _What_?”

“I don’t care about that right now!” he spluttered. “I just-... I got you a present.” Then he stopped, feeling blood rush to his cheeks. All of a sudden the freezing greenhouse felt very warm. Hinami was quiet and suddenly curious, the irritation draining from her.

“Close your eyes,” he said. She did. There was a rustling as he reached into his back pocket, and then warmth as he took her left hand gently. Instinctively, she raised her other hand to place on top of his. He held them in front of her, then turned them over and pressed something cold and hard into them. Curling her fingers over it, her mouth turned upwards a little. She could hear the faint, muffled tinkling of beads against metal and feel something like the teeth of a comb. Ah. Kanzashi?

“ _Merry Christmas_ ,” Ayato said, in English, then pressed his lips to her knuckles. Hinami’s eyes flew open. He was straightening up from a bow and flustered, gaze averted until he glanced back at her. Then down at her hands. They were still clasped between his own, and he pulled them away slowly, nodding. It was invitation to look at his present. She unfurled her fingers slowly as he pulled his hands away, and breathed out in something between a sigh and a gasp. Three golden flowers made the head of the clip, yellow and pale pink gemstones set inbetween them, with strands of beads falling from underneath it. She picked it up with her fingers to let them dangle, watching them reflect the dim fluorescent lighting in rose and sunshine yellow dots across her palm.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Ayato opened his mouth to say something, then paused, thinking better of it. “It’s nothing,” he insisted instead. It was hardly expensive, that was true, a few hundred yen from a cheap corner shop.

“It’s the most beautiful thing here,” she laughed, almost bitterly. He almost missed her eyes flicking away from the hairpin to glance around the greenhouse: the slightly broken window in one corner that let in gusts of freezing air every few minutes, the thin carpet of dirt that gathered in the nooks and crannies between crates and knocked-over plant pots, the translucent cobwebs stretching across the ceiling. The dark figures of the rest of Aogiri, occasionally glancing over at them, looking almost amused.

“No it isn’t,” he replied softly, and her eyes snapped up from the jewellery to meet his. His face instantly turned red. “I mean…”

She blushed too, looking up through the frames of her lashes. “Could you put it on for me?” she asked.

Surprised, he nodded, reaching out to take the pin from her hands, gently scraping back a section of hair behind her ear and sliding the comb through. He paused, fingers in her hair, and stroked his thumb along the curve of her cheek. She leaned her head into his touch unconsciously, lips parting slightly. Her hands were clasped loosely in front of her chest. She stepped forwards. His head dipped down slightly, eyelids drooping, and he pressed his palm against the nape of her neck, gently drawing her closer. They probably would have kissed, if he hadn’t realised at the last minute what he was doing.

He ran his fingers through her hair one last time, coughed to himself and stepped back, holding his hands stiffly behind his back. Hinami looked dazed, and a little confused. “Ayato?”

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, unconsciously bowing his head. Damn. That wasn't the sort of thing he did. 

She laughed and absentmindedly brushed her fingertips over the hairpin. “ _Merry Christmas_ , Ayato.”

He smiled back.


End file.
